A Stone in the Sea(52)

No doubt, Shea had the same questions running through her own mind. Five minutes ago, I was hightailing it out her door and the next I was running right back through it.

Surely I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t make sense of it.

“Oh crap!” Shea shouted. The smell of burned pancakes suddenly hit the air, and Shea raced for the burner, yanking the skillet from the flame. “Crap,” she said again, then laughed, slanting me an eye. “Guess I was distracted.”

Right.

“Ewwww! I don’t like burnt pancakes, Momma. They’re icky!” This from that same little voice that under April’s scrutiny I’d almost forgotten was there.

“It’s okay, baby,” Shea tossed over her shoulder while she scraped the burnt batter from the pan and into the garbage. “It’s only two. Our big ol’ bowl is still full of mix. I’ll make new. Why don’t you set the table? We have a guest this morning, so set it for four. You think you can do that, my big girl?”

“Yep!” Kallie replied, probably a little too enthusiastically for someone who’d just been asked to do a chore.

Shea gestured with her chin toward the table. “Have a seat and I’ll get you some coffee.”

Awkwardly, I stood there having no idea what to do. Run like I should have in the first place? Intervene on the mess Shea seemed to be making in the kitchen? Or maybe make myself right at home, hunt down a mug, and pour myself some coffee? Shea obviously had her hands full, but April jumped in on the breakfast, so I finally gave up and accepted her direction, heading toward the table.

Caramel eyes went wide as that same curiosity was renewed. My chest got all tight, the little girl setting me on edge.

This had to rank up there with some of the worst ideas I’d ever had, and I’d done some really stupid shit in my life. I knew it was wrong—being here when I knew I couldn’t stay—feeding that false hope Shea was watching me with, but I didn’t know how to make myself walk away.

I wanted to float in it, just for a little while, in Shea’s good and light. Worse yet, I wanted to delve into just a little more of her dark. Wanted her to show me just how deep it went, somehow knowing it would drown me when she did.

I touched the back of the chair to Kallie’s right. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

“You can’t sit there, silly…that’s my mommy’s chair.” A bell-like laugh rang from her and she pointed to the chair at the opposite side of the table. “You sit in that one. That’s our special spot for people who don’t live here.”

“Um…okay…thank you.”

I rubbed a palm over my face. What in the name of God was I doing?

I looked at Shea again, who was stealing a sly glance our way, a grin forming at the corners of her mouth while a whole ton of worry creased the corners of her eyes.

Walking around the table, I pulled out the chair and slipped down onto it, knee bouncing a million miles a minute

“Hi,” I said, raking a flustered hand through my hair. “I’m Baz. Your mom’s…friend.”

So apparently now I thought formal introductions were in order.

Confusion pinched up her nose and she said my name as if I were crazy, her voice lifting my name like a song. “Baz?”

“Well, Sebastian is my real name. But my friends call me Baz.”

Her eyes narrowed in speculation. “Am I allowed to call you Baz?”

I drummed my fingers on the table, my nerves out of control. “Sure.”

“Okay, Baz.” She stuck out her little hand.

I looked at it as if it might burn me, before I hesitantly reached out and took it.

Her head nodded along as she shook my hand and spoke all prim and proper. “It’s very nice to meet you, Baz. I’m Kallie Marie Bentley.” Her tone turned excited. Words began to fly from her mouth at warp speed. “Did you know I’m four years old? Only for seven months and then I’m gonna be five and then I get to go to big girl school and I get to ride on the bus.”

Out of the blue, she flapped her arms. “I’m a butterfly.”

Um. Okay.

But my mind went fluttering right back to the kaleidoscope of butterflies gracing Shea’s slender hip.

A smile pulled at one side of my mouth.

“You’re a butterfly, huh?”

“Yep. Butterflies are so, so pretty and my favorite kind is the Monarch kind. Did you know they fly so, so far?” Her words quieted, like she was sharing a secret with me. “Two thousand whole miles so they can get warm in the winter.”

Soft laughter rolled around on my tongue. God, the kid was cute. “Two thousand whole miles? You sure about that?” I whispered back.